Post by wastelandwheelman on Dec 23, 2009 20:52:46 GMT -5
It was another cold, dreary evening in the east side of St. Lucent. Normally, it was quiet, aside form the occasional random gunshot or racing hover cars. Tonight, however, wails of sirens filled the air as Angels tore down streets looking for someone…
That someone was Shavo Silverton, a Khemetic jackal/maned wolf and expert in parkour, CQC, and special weapons for the Foundry. However, the canid had ditched his trademark overcoat loaded with weapons in a safe house. The airships were closing in on him, and he needed to hide somewhere fast. He glanced down a side alley, seeing a blue glow of a hospital sign. He cringed a bit. He hated hospitals, but unfortunately, he had no other option for a few miles.
“Oh, well, beggars can‘t be choosers,” he muttered to himself as he kicked off a wall over the razor wire fence, ducking behind a dumpster as an Angel hover car cruised by. He waited a moment, then peeked around the corner, making sure it was safe before bolting across the street towards the lobby of the hospital. Not a moment too soon, either. The moment he entered, an airship’s search light glared into the alley where he was moments before.
Shavo’s soft lavender eyes looked around the mostly empty lobby, no one looking up at him. Good, he thought. He gave himself a quick look over, noticing a nasty gash on his forearm. Probably from a bullet graze or barely clearing a fence. He shrugged, checked in with a false identity and waited in the lobby, silently praying no Angel saw him come in.
(OOC: Sorry if it seems weird. I‘m sick, and my head‘s not on straight >_>; )
That someone was Shavo Silverton, a Khemetic jackal/maned wolf and expert in parkour, CQC, and special weapons for the Foundry. However, the canid had ditched his trademark overcoat loaded with weapons in a safe house. The airships were closing in on him, and he needed to hide somewhere fast. He glanced down a side alley, seeing a blue glow of a hospital sign. He cringed a bit. He hated hospitals, but unfortunately, he had no other option for a few miles.
“Oh, well, beggars can‘t be choosers,” he muttered to himself as he kicked off a wall over the razor wire fence, ducking behind a dumpster as an Angel hover car cruised by. He waited a moment, then peeked around the corner, making sure it was safe before bolting across the street towards the lobby of the hospital. Not a moment too soon, either. The moment he entered, an airship’s search light glared into the alley where he was moments before.
Shavo’s soft lavender eyes looked around the mostly empty lobby, no one looking up at him. Good, he thought. He gave himself a quick look over, noticing a nasty gash on his forearm. Probably from a bullet graze or barely clearing a fence. He shrugged, checked in with a false identity and waited in the lobby, silently praying no Angel saw him come in.
(OOC: Sorry if it seems weird. I‘m sick, and my head‘s not on straight >_>; )